Indomitable
by LittleItaly618
Summary: The time is WW2. After the start of D Day, America and his comrades  France, Canada, and England  are sent to rescue some hostage soldiers from the Axis territory. The problem is, it's going to be hell doing it.  America's POV
1. Prologue: Omaha

**Prologue: Omaha**

The mist that crept onto my back made me shiver as if the spray of the sea wasn't enough. I took off my glasses, breathing onto them so I could rub away the smear that the salt water had left while my comrades and I were all huddled together like a bunch of penguins. A man to my left, ill with motion sickness barfed off to the side since there was no room to kneel down. The rest just stood there with morbid looks on there faces. It was no longer the looks of determination to fight for me, their Country, it was a look of fear, almost like looking into the eyes of little children. They knew as well as I did that more than half of them would all die within the first few minutes of combat. It always got to me knowing that I could never die beside my brothers in arms the way they did. I could never sacrifice myself for them. I could do my best to protect them but I could never reveal the secret of my identity to them. It was hard when you got shot and your comrades swear that they saw you get fatally wounded and you show up in the mess hall the next morning bandaged but alive and well so I had to be as cautious as possible. It wasn't all fine and dandy being a country. We were still able to get wounded and had to heal like the humans it just didn't take as long. Roger, a soldier I have gotten rather close to over that past couple months stood next to me with chew in his mouth.

He spit off to the side and looked up at me, wiping his face, "Into the jaws of death, eh Jones?" He coughed a little and cleared his throat. I just gave a weak chuckle and looked ahead. This was it: D-Day. Omaha beach was getting closer and my adrenaline began to pump, familiar with the field of battle. The screams of our allies and enemies began to become clearer as well. Finally, the hatch opened and my brothers poured out into the chaos, many not even making it three feet before getting shot down into the water. I trudged as quickly as I could, trying to make it to the freaking beach. Bullets shot past my face, sounding like whistles. One nicked me in the ear but I didn't bother to stop and complain, I kept going, the sand was shifty and thick, making it harder to run so I tripped when I reached the shore. I tried to get up as quickly as I could, my hair now drenched in blood red water. So much blood…

"We're getting slaughtered out here!" I heard one guy shout, not knowing if it was one of our men or another. I regained control of myself and ran a little further ducking under a small dune. I looked out, seeing a soldier on his knees, starring up at the sky. I squinted to get a better look. He was one of ours.

"What the hell are you doing? Get down idiot! Get down!" I tried to call out to him but my attempts were futile. The man was shot through the throat. I couldn't let myself lose it now I had to keep going.

"Damn it!" I clutched onto my M1 Garand Rifle and ran faster. My glasses were badly smudged from the sand and blood and I couldn't see nor could I stop to clean them. Suddenly I felt myself fall back. I felt a sharp pain in my right shoulder. I could feel the warm blood seeping out as I held it. I had been shot. This was not my day. As I rolled over onto my arms and got to my feet, I noticed a flash of someone run in front of me, beginning to shoot at the enemies ahead. I took that opportunity to quickly hawk some spit onto my glasses and wipe them clear enough to see. I looked up to see what idiot would risk their life for me and saw that familiar mess of blonde hair.

"Heh, nice timing Arty. Don't think this means that I am gonna start needing your help all the time though." I said, running to his side to shoot with him.

"Someone has to look after you, you git!" He shouted over the roaring of the bullets. I had to admit, Arthur may have looked thin and kind of weak but he was anything but. He had been through more wars that I could count and, though I would NEVER admit it, I still looked up to him and admired his skills on the battle field.

"Let's get going! We gotta claim more ground!" I shouted to him

"Agreed!" He answered.


	2. Chapter 1: Mission

**Chapter One: Mission**

The sky was still grey overhead and the breeze was humid with the heat of war. The shelter of my fort tent was little comfort. I could hear the injured men screaming in the medical tent close by, probably getting their limbs amputated. Sitting on the cot and looking into a small mirror leaned up against the small table, I slathered my face with shaving cream, slowly gliding the blade across my face. I had let quite a bit of stubble grow in the past couple weeks and it was starting to itch. I had never really understood the point of a beard. Sure a five o clock shadow swoon the ladies but a beard? As far as I was concerned all a beard could do was get remnants of food in it and itch the hell out of your face.

"Ow! Son of a-…" I cursed to myself as I cut the bottom of my cheek with the sharp edge. I shook my head a little to let the air cool the sting, the blade dripping with cream and some blood.

"Are you even old enough to shave?" Arthur asked as he entered, barging in very **UN**gentlemanly.

"You don't even look like you could grow a single hair on your chest, let alone your face. " He smirked, folding his arms and giving me that familiar look of disapproval.

I narrowed my eyes.

"Well at least I can get a nurse to look at me without making them drink first." I retorted, giving him a "Haha you can't tell me what to do anymore Artie" face.

He scoffed. "Belt up!" He studied my face for a second.

"Always with that same defiant look." He shook his head.

I smiled.

"Ya need something?" I asked, wiping the rest of the cream off.

He looked a little speechless, looking off to the side, muttering.

"Well I just came to check on you. You were pretty shaken up after that last battle."

My face softened.

"Is there another reason you came?" I asked, putting on my white wife-beater.

"You commanding officer requested you report to him immediately. I was asked to attend as well, since mine will be present for some reason that will hopefully become clear to me in the near future."

"Huh." I acknowledged, putting on my uniform jacket, concealing within it a gun in case of a surprise attack from the enemy.

"It's probably a mission."

Lastly I put on my dog tags. They were now clean and shinning brilliantly reading: Alfred F. Jones.

"Let's go." I followed him out of the tent.

"Oh, one more thing." He said.

"Hm?"

"Your brother is here."

England and I walked to the Generals tent. There was a table with many miniatures of our tanks and a large map of France and Germany. Near it was a chalk board with several scribbled out and freshly written battle plans.

"Sup, E?" I asked as I walked in.

The General chuckled, uneasy about the nickname I had given him.

"Now, now, Mr. Jones, I have asked you time and time again to address me as General Eisenhower."

I scratched the back of my head.

"Eh, I prefer E. It's shorter."

He did not look amused. Poor guy, he tended to be such a softie to get people to like him that it ended up backfiring most of the time. Being the natural jack ass that I was I liked to rub it in. My eyes wandered from him, catching sight of my little brother Canada.

"Matt!" I yelled, running over to him to give him a bear hug and ruffle his hair.

"How have you been, bro?"

"Hey! Take it easy!" He laughed, "You're smudging my glasses."

"I can't help it if I'm glad to see you!" I beamed at him. Had he gotten taller since the last time we had been together? "What are you doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be at Juno beach with the rest of your troops?

He fixed his glasses and smiled back at me.

"I transferred over here after the first invasion to join you on your mission. My troops will be fine."

"Ah, so it is about a mission." I said, turning to General E.

He sighed.

"Yes, I was getting to that, but, first, I would like to introduce you to British General Montgomery.

General M. stepped forward from behind E and gave me a nod.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Jones. I have been informed of your true identity and therefore it is also and honor." He tipped his pin decorated hat to me.

At that moment, Arthur leaned over and whispered in my ear, "He likes to be called "Monty" but I think it's

more appropriate to address him as General Montgomery."

I held out my hand enthusiastically, ignoring Arty's comment, "Nice to meet you Monty!"

Monty let out a rather boisterous and heavily British laugh, "I say, I'm rather fond of this lad!" He said, slapping me square in the middle of my back, knocking the wind out of me.

I chuckled in a raspy voice," Glad to hear it."

Monty stroked his mustache, a now professional look on his face." Enough of the banter, we have an important assignment for the four of you."

I did the math. "Four?"

At that moment, a familiar French laugh was heard. France opened the curtain of the fort tent melodramatically.

"Hello mes amis!"

I saw England's face go pale, and then turn at least fourteen shades of red.

France's face brightened up when he saw Canada, "Mattie! Could that be you? It's been so long!" He embraced Matt and kissed him on either cheek.

Matt looked like he was going to suffocate, "It's great to see you too."

England finally blurted out," And just what do you think you are doing here, Frog?"

France simply smirked. "Why Angleterre, I will be your guide. This is my territory after all. I have also taken the liberty of arranging the transportation from Paris to Frankfurt so I believe a little bit of respect and gratitude is in order."

England looked about ready to rip Francis a new one. Monty eyed him and England back off, grumbling to himself.

General E just rubbed his temples, "Alright, children. Settle down." He brought out a map and taped it to the chalk board, then, taking out a blue pen, circled where we were. "Your assignment is to rescue the soldiers that were taken prisoner by the Axis Powers. They are being held at the Dulag Luft (POW transit camps used for interrogations) named Keine Rückkehr in Frankfurt, Germany."

He circled Frankfurt, "They will beat the information out of our men until they can no longer speak and then transfer them to death camps. You are to set out by 0600 hours tomorrow. You will travel on foot, so as not to be conspicuous to the Axis, until you hit Caen. From there you will take a train to Paris."

He circled every city we would hit along the way and then connected them with a long bolded line, "No doubt you will run into trouble so it will take all of your strength and experience to work together and take back our troops. Understood?"

I grit my teeth.

"So they have at least one hostage from all of our countries, huh? Is that why you are all joining me?"

My new team mates nodded.

General Monty handed me a list of all the POW's. I scanned it to the list of American captives. My eyes caught one name in particular, Roger Lassiter. I couldn't let my men suffer at the hands of those Nazis and the rest of the Axis. They were gonna pay for the damage they had caused and I would personally make sure of it.

"Alright then, let's gear up guys. I intend on giving these axis bastards a piece of my mind." I smirked.

General E and General Monty exchanged looks of pride and saluted us.

June 7, 1944

Normandy

Dear Frank,

Though I am pretty sure you are aware of this, General E. and General Monty have sent me and my team, codenamed: F.A.C.E, to rescue several of our brothers in arms that were captured. It's around 5:30 A.M and we are all packing our gear to set out. We will take as much as we can carry and are traveling on foot to the first city so we don't draw attention to the enemy. I'm not so sure about working with this particular group. I mean its true that we are all brothers and what not but still. Arthur has always had this really annoying habit of bossing me around and thinking that he knows more than me. Yeah right. Francis is okay sometimes when he isn't being a prissy snob…which is 99.9% of the time. I'd like to fashion his ascot into a noose and hang him from the nearest tree. Matt is cool except he's so damn quiet I tend to forget he is here. I don't know how you expect me to do my job with them around. Sitting together in a conference with them is one thing, but having to be around them 24/7 for however long this mission takes? That's asking a crap ton of effort. I guess a hero has to do what a hero has to do. I just hope we can reach the soldiers in time before they are beaten to death, or worse, sent of to concentration camps. Well, whether I like it or not I am gonna have to try and find a way to work with these guys. We aren't called allies for nothing, right? Good thing I'm bringing a flask. I don't think it will be enough though. Anyways, say hi to the Mrs. For me. Good luck with things on your end.

Sincerely,

Alfred F. Jones

I put down my pen and tore out the page from the journal, folding it up and placing it into the envelope. There was no need to write an address since General E knew exactly who this was to be sent to. I got up and stretched, feeling my spine crack, bringing me small relief from the tension of life. Tossing the journal into my knap sack and throwing over my shoulder, I walked out of my tent and to the end of the base ready to meet the team. It was still dark and chilly as I walked through the camp. I passed several tents as my comrades poked their heads out to watch me go, their day starting not too long from that time.

The team was pretty quiet at the beginning of the journey, with the exception of the spats between Francis and Arty. They would fight about just about anything they could think of. Who was slowing us down with their pace, who had been hogging the water supply, or even who was just breathing too hard. After a couple days we finally reached Caen.

The city, like much of France, had been seized by the German's. Many of Arty and Mattie's troops invaded this place on D day and the battling has continued. Many civilians were taking refuge in the _Abbaye aux Hommes. We were clever enough to pack up our army gear and throw on some civilian clothes to get through the city and to the train station. I could see a look of pain on France's face as we quickly walked. His people were suffering and it literally broke his heart. Matt put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft smile. It seemed to comfort him a little. I looked over to Arty who was starring at the troops running deeper into the city._

"…_Those are my men…" he said, sounding lost in thought._

_I wasn't sure what to say to him. Looking ahead, I could see the station in plain view. We had already obtained our tickets from General E. so all we had to do was find the right train and get the hell outa this place. We pushed through the crowded station. Many people were desperate to get out of the city but sadly we knew that many wouldn't. Matt lost his balance from the weight of his bag and tripped, his glasses falling off._

"_Matt!" I helped him up, "You okay?"_

"_Yeah," He said, rubbing his eyes, "M-my glasses"_

_I scanned the ground, finally noticing them, broken and totally useless._

"_There's an extra pair in your pack isn't there? Come on we gotta go."_

_I looked around, two Nazi guards across the crowd were talking, starring right at us._

"_Oh crap, we gotta go."_

_We all quickly hastened to the train, the horn blowing, signaling that it was time to depart. We practically jumped on, having to pull Matt on as the train slowly began to come to life. The Nazi soldiers that had begun to pursue us were too late to grab us, left behind still running a little as we rode farther and farther away from them. We caught our breath, chuckling a little at our small victory._


	3. Chapter 2: Advent updated

**Chapter Two: Advent**

June 7th, 1944

Somewhere near Évreux

Dear Winston,

It is astounding how humanity can do such catastrophic harm to itself. I look around and wonder if it could be our faults. Have we not been doing our job as countries? Or have we simply been selfish and power mad, feeding those emotions to our people and causing destruction to them. Stopping Germany is indeed the right thing to do but so many have been lost and I know that my decisions are responsible for that. Take D day's operation Neptune for example. My military's job was not only to storm Gold and Sword beach, along with Mathew's troops, but then proceed to take back Caen as well. Unfortunately the third infantry division has still been unsuccessful and I fear that this battle will rage on for quite some time. The city was simply destroyed. If this keeps up there won't be anything left to take back. The bloody Nazis have made damn well sure of that. Before I left, General Montgomery informed me of a new plan codenamed operation Perch, which I will refrain from elaborating on if this letter were to somehow fall into the wrong hands. Montgomery has set out as well, to the aid of the troops who have been fighting so strongly. I wish I could have gone with him but something in my heart just wouldn't let me turn down this mission and no matter how hard I scrutinize I cannot put my finger on why that may be. Perhaps it's because of that ridiculous git Alfred. He would get himself killed if I wasn't here to keep an eye on him and I cannot have that on my conscience. There is also the matter of liberating those troops. If there is even the slightest chance that I could save them, then I will do everything within my power to do so. I pray that it is not too late.

Best wishes to you old friend,

Arthur Kirkland

I got bored of looking out at the war struck land outside. I turned to see sleeping Mattie using France's shoulder as a pillow while the France caught up on his Z's as well. I then saw England putting away his journal next to me.

"Writing a letter?" I asked.

England looked a little startled, "Hm? Oh, yes. Of course I won't be able to mail it until we come across some of our troops to do so." He chuckled and straightened his tie.

We were still in our civilian clothes and dressed somewhat spiffy. I myself wore a dark blue dress shirt with a black vest and black suit pants with suspenders and spats. All the others were in similar getups only Arthur's dress shirt was red, Francis's was a pale pink, and Matt's a slate grey. They all wore ties. I personally prefer to just leave the first three buttons undone because the collar always bothers me.

I smiled, "Hey, don't worry your soldiers are tough like you. They will be fine."

Arthur looked at me for a moment and then smiled back. The moment was broken by the rumbling sound of my empty stomach.

"Heh, sorry, I haven't eaten in a while."

Arthur stood up, "Then let's go and get some supper in the dinning cart. I always knew you weren't getting your proper nutrition. Wake them up and I will reserve us a table"

The dinning cart wasn't anything fancy considering it was a train for middle class passengers but the food was good. The waitress was a pretty enough dame, short auburn hair with striking blue eyes and a slender figure. I flirted with her as she took our orders.

"What can I get for you gentlemen?" She asked, taking out a pen and notepad.

"We will take four specials and let me have a grey goose with that, hold the olive sweet cheeks." I winked and gave her my crooked smile.

She checked me out and smirked, "Excellent choice. It will be about a fifteen minute wait for your meals and I will be right back with your goose." She walked away, with a little bounce in her step.

I grinned at the others. Francis gave his French laugh, elbowing me in the shoulder.

"You have very good taste Alfred, Elle est une très belle. Vous vilain garçon."

Canada softly laughed. England, however, did not look very amused.

"Must you flirt with everything in a skirt?" he asked.

"No I don't, just the women."

He still looked annoyed.

"Oh, come, come, now mes amis." Francis cooed, "We wont be reaching Paris until tomorrow morning. The least we can do is make the most of the down time we have." He looked to another waitress, "pardonnez-moi, serveuse? Would you please bring over a bottle of your best wine? Merci beaucoup."

"France!" Arty said in a harsh whisper, "Do you realize how much that costs?"

"Relax Angleterre, unlike you I travel in style, and style takes argent." He said, pulling out his wallet, "Which I have."

The next hour was spent swapping stories and laughing about old times over a bottle of wine. Arty loosened up quite a bit after the second drink. After the bill was paid we went back to our private passenger room and plopped onto the seats.

"Not a bad night, not a bad night." I sighed, putting my hands behind my head.

"It was rather eventful wasn't it? In fact, that was the best night I have had in a long time!" Arthur announced rather loud, "We really need to do that every night! It simply is magnificently splendid! We need more liquor!"

I snickered and attempted to shush him. Within the next several minutes we were all out like lights. Sometime around 3 AM, I really had to whiz so I left the room and lazily ventured down the hall, hearing the rumbling of the wheels racing down the tracks. I rubbed my eyes and looked ahead to see three guards walking towards me. No, not guards, Nazis!

"Du da, halt!" (You there, stop!) They shouted. I turned around and almost tripped running back to the room. I slid open the door. "Guys, guys, we need to split!"

I hardly gave them any time to wake up. I grabbed my gear bag and took Arty's hand. France and Canada followed with the rest of the supplies. Thank God we were trained to wake up on command in case of a surprise attack in the dead of night.

"Oh, you should never make a drunken Frenchman run!" Francis shouted distastefully.

The Nazi's pulled out their pistols, still shouting angrily. They began to shoot, just barely missing Matt's heels. He whimpered as he picked up the pace.

We ran through two carts and finally reached the baggage cart. England stopped us from running inside.

"Quick! Everyone onto the roof, I have a plan!"

We scrambled onto the cart that we just ran out of, watching the Nazi's run into the baggage cart, thinking that we had taken refuge there. Arty then jumped down and locked the door. The Nazi's then turned around to see that they had been bamboozled. England unhinged the steel hooks that connected the carts and unpinned a grenade and threw it threw the window of the baggage cart door. The cart exploded into flames as it grew farther and farther away from us.

"Nice one Arty!" I shouted over the train's powerful chugging, the wind whipping our hair everywhere.

England looked into the cart to see the conductors and the security guard running to arrest us. "Never mind that for now! We need to get off!"

"What, are you insane?" Matt shrieked.

"You heard the man let's go!" I grabbed Matt's collar and jumped.

He screamed. France reluctantly followed and England jumped off after the rest of us, most likely to make sure we all got off safely. We rolled down the dirt mound that the tracks were lifted on, no doubt bruising. I spit out a load of dirt and took off my glasses to clean them. The others looked like just as much of a wreck as I did.

"Oh, bloody hell, my best linen." Arty complained.

"Oh, my head, sweet Joan du Arc that was just too much excitement." France dusted himself off, "and my hair is ruined."

"I guess we're walking the rest of the way." I said, grabbing my pack, "No use wearing this change back into out uniforms and get going"

Everyone groaned. We knew this trek was gonna be a bitch when the hangovers kicked in.

After about an hour and a half, we reached Paris, the heart of France. Paris was one of the cities marked to take back in operation Overlord, but if the troops hadn't even made it to Caen yet, then how could they be expected to take this place back so quickly? The truth was, they couldn't. Because the Germans occupied so many places, the Allies were royally screwed. Our generals never planned for this to happen. This was supposed to be the time, the battle, to end the whole war. I looked around, seeing the civilians going about their lives, wondering when the allies would make it. The thing was, we were here now, but without our troops we couldn't take back the entire city and it wasn't the mission we were assigned to do. Even though I wanted to help them, I had to stick to the plans. I thought about how many innocent people would die in the cross fire within that time period…how many I couldn't save. We had packed our helmets and thrown on trench coats to stay as inconspicuous as possible. The last thing we needed was any unnecessary fights. It was still fairly warm out so the coats were a bit much. France suggested that we seek refuge in Notre Dame for a while to rejuvenate and have a little lunch to fuel us before we headed to our next mode of transportation, which he insisted remain a surprise for now.

We climbed the steps of the beautiful church. It was rather intimidating as it was tall. Opening the large doors, we were stopped by a deacon who began to shout at us in French. France, also speaking his native tongue, seemed to be reassuring the man that though we were in uniform we meant no harm. The deacon's eyes widened and he babbled what sounded like an apology and a welcome. France smiled at him, putting a hand on his shoulder in a friendly manner and turned to us, giving us the okay to enter. We settled in the vast hall near the pews, the deacon and a couple of the nuns bringing us fresh food and cool water. We thanked them and began to eat and drink our fill.

"It's nice that we have a place where we can get some actual sleep." Matt commented, referring to our last misadventure on the train.

France got and arm around him, "Qui Mattie, we are safe and sound and free to do as we please until this evening when our ride gets here."

"I still do not agree with this ride being a secret." England sounded very un amused as always, "I cannot help but be skeptical about anything that you have concocted in that twisted mind of yours, Francis."

France ignored him, "Now why don't we all get some rest for a few hours? Poor Mattie can hardly keep his little peepers open."

We all muttered and yawned in agreement and climbed onto the cots that the church had set out for us.

"Jones!" Roger called out as he ran up to me in camp, "The mail came!" he waved a thin brown package in his hand.

I was finishing a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast in the mess hall of the base, it wasn't the best food but it was filling. Roger sat down next to me with a big grin on his face.

"Who's it from?" I asked.

"It's from Loretta." He said in a sing song voice. He hastily opened it and pulled out several pictures, many of her and his family.

"This here is my Ma, and my Pa, he was injured in a work accident which is why he is in a wheel chair. That there is my little sister Clara and my older brother Paul. He isn't able to serve on account of the fact that his back is so bad. He has Scoliosis you see so he didn't pass the physical exam. He ain't no coward of course, he was dying to come over here and fight.

"Yeah, yeah sad story, now tell me more about this Loretta dame." I laughed, looking at another picture of her on the front lawn of the house. "Is she your girl friend?"

"Wife actually, well, she will be once I get back." He chuckled. "She's got a bun in the oven courtesy of Roger Lassiter delivery. It ain't no problem of course since I had planned to marry her anyway. I just want to make it back in one piece to be an able bodied father."

"Well you will make it back so long as I'm watching your back." I smacked him in the back of the head, "You would be buried six feet under by now if it wasn't for me."

"Ow!" he hit me back on the shoulder, "Right, whatever helps you sleep at night Jones." He looked through the rest of the pictures and read the little love letter signed with a kiss stained with red lipstick. "Hey, let me ask you something?"

I chugged down some orange juice "Hm?"

"Why don't you ever get any letters? Don't you have family out there?"

I coughed on my drink, caught off guard. "W-well my parents died when I was young and I have no siblings or anything." I laughed nervously.

He eyed me.

He had no idea that I really did get mail. Only it wasn't handed out with the rest of the troops. I reported to the Generals to receive my mail. The letters were normally orders from my boss. Realizing that I was lost in thought, I looked back at him. He was also lost in his own mind. He looked unsure. I knew that look. I had seen it a million times of so many faces, the look of doubt, wondering if they would ever make it back home to their loved ones.

"I sure hope this operation Overlord works." He said.

I woke up, startled. I looked around, remembering that we were safe. I scanned the church, a few people were in the pews praying, a couple nuns were conversing as they walked inside and a young man was lighting the candles that hung on the pillars. Rubbing my eyes, I got up to stretch and take a look around. I saw a door that was cracked open ever so slightly. Curiosity got the better of me as I slipped through it, finding stairs leading upward in a spiral, I climbed them slowly. I reached the top, finding the old yet incredible bell tower. The wood creaked as I walked to the long balcony that lined the area. I looked out at the courtyard below, feeling rather uncomfortable next to the gargoyles, their grim faces starring into the distance. The city wasn't as beautiful as I remembered the last time I was there, a time before the war. It was Nazi occupied, filled with pain and suffering and fear. The people walked cautiously and in a daze while the Gestapo swine roamed like they owned the place, taking what they wanted and doing what they wanted. They sickened me. I wondered if maybe I could spit on one as they walked by. I saw only one within range as I lathered up some spit.

"What on Earth are you doing up here?"

I jumped, snorting the saliva back into my throat and swallowing hard.

England stood there behind me.

"What the hell Arty? Why do you always sneak up on me like that?" I said, still startled.

"You cannot be trusted going around on your own you git." He said, walking next to me to look out at the broken Paris, "I wonder if Francis feels as bad as this looks." He said.

"I'm sure he does. Especially with those good for nothing pigs here."

The breeze flowed through our hair as we gazed in silence. I hated those moments. I wasn't good with awkward silences. I looked back at the inside of the tower. There was a ladder leading up to the loft were the bells were rung. I grinned and ran to it.

"Why don't we ring the bells?" I asked

England followed. "Alfred, there is a schedule for them to be rung. We shouldn't be causing mischief for the people that are giving us shelter."

"Oh come on, where is your sense of fun?" I laughed, climbing.

"Alfred get down from there this instant." He commanded.

"Oh don't be such a stiff." I ran under a bell, looking at how amazing the thing was, "Viva la France!" I shouted in it, running around its perimeter. It echoed powerfully through the tower.

England scoffed, "Alfred you are being a child", he climbed the ladder and walked over to the bell.

"Alfred? There is no Alfred here." I said in a deep voice. "I am Bartholomew Von Hugenmelon, one of the many bells of Notre Dame!" I laughed.

England stifled laughter, trying to remain the parental figure. "Alfred please, you are disturbing what little peace that these people have left.

I began to imitate a radio announcer for baseball and England finally let out a laugh.

"I tried to tell myself that you had a brain AT LEAST the size of a peanut but that was just wishful thinking." He laughed some more.

I laughed along with him. It had been a while since we laughed like that.

Our laughter was cut short by the sound of the doors to the church entrance being pounded on.

We jumped down off the loft, not bothering with the ladder and raced to the balcony to look over. There they were: Nazis. Someone must have tipped them off about us being here.

"Come on! We had better get down there!" I said, running back to the stairs

Arthur and I raced down the winding stairway and out into the church hall. Francis and Matt were both near the front door, their guns propped up on pews they had pushed up toward it, also acting as a shield for their pounding on the door continued, Nazis shouting in their native tongue.

England grabbed my shoulder and whispered in an urgent tone, "I'm heading back up, perhaps I can get a clear shot from there if need be."

I nodded and he took back to the stairs. My attention turned back towards the large wooden doors of the entrance, waiting, listening for any signs of an attack. Nothing. We continued to listen. Still nothing. At this point it was so damn quiet you could hear a pin drop. Finally I heard footsteps approaching the door. I readied my gun.

The footsteps ceased and, for a moment, there was more silence until someone finally spoke, " Hallo? Excuse me, we hate to be rude but would you mind stepping outside?"

We stayed put and silent like statues, ready to shoot.

He waited a moment, "I have a source that tells me there are soldiers hiding here. Are you Amis? Tommies perhaps? Either way you are an enemy."

Again, we said nothing.

"If you agree to come out and surrender yourselves now. We will not kill you." Yeah right, knew that was a big fat sack of BS.

"I will give you until the count of drei (three), if you do not step outside I will be forced to kick through the door and come in there after you."

That voice was starting to sound familiar. Could it be..?

"Eine..."

Shit, it was Ludwig. There was no reasoning with him after what happened in WW1. He was determined to even the scores which was why we were in this damn mess in the first place. I looked to Francis and Matt. They both looked to me. I signaled for them to move father back, to hide behind a pillar or another pew. They nodded and slowly did so.

"Zwei..."

I could hear the impatience growing in Ludwig's voice. I drew in a breath and exhaled to prepare myself. Pulling the wool over the eyes of somebody like him sure as hell wouldn't be easy and I knew there was a 99.9% chance that I was going to walk out of this injured, but still, I had to protect my comrades. He had just started on three when I shouted

"W-wait a sec!"

Alright, he knew I was in here and I was surprised he hadn't yet ordered his troops to start shooting at the door.

I stepped forward a little, still aiming at the door myself, "It's just me. I am alone. I was injured and these good people of the church gave me a place to rest."

Ludwig must have recognized my voice by now as well because his tone changed, "I do not have time for your sob story. Come out and surrender or I will order my troops to shoot."

I needed to draw him in. Come on Alfred! " I want you, and only you to come in here. I have two German soldiers hostage in here with me! If you shoot! You will only shoot them too! What kind of superior race would do that?" I mocked, " Only you can come in here and retrieve them. If you send in anymore I will shoot these men!"

Ludwig was no idiot. He probably didn't believe a word I was saying, and yet, he still agreed to it. I opened the door cautiously and he strode in, his hands behind his back as he studied me, the surroundings. He had changed a bit from the last time I had seen him. He had a deadly look in his eye. This guy had had enough of being pushed around and was certainly not going to let anyone, not even me, ever tell him what was what again.

He smirked at me, circling me like a wolf, "I see no soldiers of mine here, Jones. I am hurt that you would lie to me." He continued to cirlce.

I chuckled, "I had to get you in here by yourself to have a little talk. Country to country. I mean, the way we all talk to one another might confuse the other soldiers right? What with all of our past history together." Talk bigger, make him see that you are a threat, I pushed myself," Don't worry I have no reason to shoot you, yet."

He laughed a bit,"You haven't changed a bit have you?"

I was getting a little nervous. I had been talking to stall, but was he doing the same? Maybe he knew from the start I wasnt the only one here and the Nazis were already in motion to take us out. Ludwig wouldn't be so stupid as to show them that no matter how they shot us we wouldn't die. We would bleed and be seriously hurt but couldn't die. That would raise suspisions. He HAD to be playing it safe, planning to do this himself and taking us back for intterigation. That must be the only reason he agreed to come in alone.

" No, I am still the same charismatic, drop dead sexy country I have always been."

He walked closer to me. " Funny, I was thinking more along the lines of 'arrogant childish brat'."

I grit my teeth. This had to end soon. Maybe England would sense something was wrong and begin to shoot our enemies out front I could take care of Ludwig myself, sure he was taller than me and a bit brawnier looking but I knew that I was much stronger. Though, I stayed cautious, keeping aimed at him.

" You should watch what you say, I was the one that saved your sorry ass by lending you all that dough, after all."

He walked closer, not caring about my weapon, so close I could feel his breath on my face. He stared me dead in the eyes, a look of loathing on his face. I returned the look to show him I wasn't intimidated.

He spoke sternly,"If I recall, you were the one that was too much of a coward to join the war in the first place."

I was now gritting my teeth harder, clamping down on the inside of my cheek to keep myself calm, tasting the blood from it. I gripped my gun tighter.

"I did what was best for my people, then you sank seven of my merchant ships after I gave you fair warning not to continue threatening them."

He got as close as he could get, his chest now meeting the barrel. My finger twitched on the trigger. I could shoot this bastard right now. But that could mean endangering my friends. I had to be subtle about this so his men wouldn't be tipped off to what was happening.

His voice now became a little more hostile," Interesting how that always happens to you isn't it? You are too afraid to get involved in anyone's affairs but your own then you strut around expecting the rest of us to acknowledge you as an equal? Let me make something very clear to you Jones. You may be turning out to be a super power but you are immature and your success has a poor foundation. It will come crashing down and then you will have nothing."

It sounded like someone was being a hippocrit.

He continued," Do you know what my boss thinks of your people? You are nothing but a race of degenerate fools on the way to self destruction. You know what they say Jones,'The bigger they are the harder they fall'." He chuckled,"But don't worry. I have no reason to shoot you yet." He mocked.

I just smiled,"Funny, because I hear your boss's opinion on me is that I am the biggest threat out there."

A scooting sound was heard and we both turned out attentiont to Matt, who had caught the edge of a pew with his pack strap and dragged it forward slighlty. I took that opportunity to tackled my opponent to the ground trying to cover his mouth so he could not shout for help.

Francis ran out from behind a pillar toward the door, ready for an attack. I was still wresting with Ludwig. Matt ran towards us but fell back in shock from the gunshot he heard go off between us. That was it. The Nazi's began to yell and shoot at the door. Francis shot right back. Not many made it inside. Many were already on the ground lying still. Arthur must have been shooting from the bell tower. Matt had regained his sense and ran to help me, he bound Ludwig's hands and feet while I held him. Ludwig was still a challenge, struggling, trying to fight out of our grips. Finally, we gagged him, though we could tell he was muffling curse words at us, and shoved him in the storage closet. Francis had finished off the last of the soldiers and Arthur cam running back down the stairs.

" Is everyone alright?" he asked, panting.

" We're fine. But lets get out of here before the back up shows for these pathetic bastards."


End file.
